Hope
by Yamino Tenshi 202
Summary: Steve was forever running, the Creepers forever chasing him. It wasn't as though he had a choice. By NOTch himself, he was going to die. Like Damn, he was going to go without trying to survive. (Starring: Herobrine, Steve?, The Enderdragon, The Wither, Ghasts, Creepers, Endermen, and NOTch)
1. Apocalypse

I don't play Minecraft; my sister does. We were talking and I rambled about an idea that developed in my head as she spoke of all things Minecraft. She started crying and asked me to write this.

Comments and constructive criticism are very much appreciated!

* * *

In a villager's home, Steve looked down at his borrowed bed and admired the supplies he had gathered. Enough food to last until the arrival at the next village and his mining tools on one side; weapons lay in a line, wiped clean from their previous venture.

Save for the stone sword.

It wasn't going to last much longer, but Steve found himself using that weapon less and less as time went on.

It reminded him of things that left him biting through his lip, to drown in the middle of the night.

Steve turned to the bag at his waist, pulling on its strings to see what stayed there. Ten emeralds shone in the scarce light that he was letting into the sack. It would have to be enough. Screams were coming in through the window and the smell of burning pork was permeating the air, accompanied by the loud booms that were making him bite the inside of his cheek. He took his time, lifting everything into his backpack that he would need and attaching his weapons and holsters onto the proper spots of his body. Steve sighed heavily.

'Off to a new place,' he mused with discontent. As he adjusted his pack, hoping that this time, the straps wouldn't rub his shoulders too much and give him blisters like last time.

He heard a horrible groaning outside and felt ice travel the length of his spine.

He heard his name with a hiss on the first letter.

"SsssssteeEeeve. "

He ran out of the house, his blood racing.

'Have to run! Have to get to the Dragon!'

One may wonder if Steve is in danger, being chased by a green, exploding being that dragged out its sounds like an angry chicken trying to protect its chicks. The short answer...

Ask Steve.

As he ran towards the woods, thick and thin in all of the wrong areas, Steve looked behind at the village for just a moment.

Fire was curling towards the sky, and he stared in awe and horror as he heard the screaming of villagers and smelt the strong odor of pork again. It was a familiar scent to him, despite his horror, and he tried to ignore it as he continued to run, trying to avoid tripping over rocks and shrubbery.

It was the scent of burning human flesh, forever chasing him.

He heard explosions occurring behind him, in the same tune that the monster, that mockery of a savior - 'Damn him!' - would try and say his name through the creatures he commanded.

'I have to run!'

He could hear the wolves behind him, howling for his blood. And he heard the cries of the villagers, their flesh burning like pork and being devoured raw or smoking by the beasts that chased him.

'Damn you, Herobrine!'

The light of fire faded behind him as he lost himself in the woods, the coolness of the leaves soothing his tight-feeling skin.


	2. Exodus

Steve hears a voice a lot. He's stopped questioning it.

* * *

Steve sat upon on a flat stone, trying to navigate where he was. There was a river to his right and soon, he realized, there was a turn up ahead.

'Follow the direction of the turn.'

Steve looked up to the sky and saw a cloud above him. Obscuring the sun, his only light, the cloud did not bother him. It was a friendly relief from the sun. Why would it?

The sun was about midday height and everything seemed fine, though it seemed rather dark for midday standards. Damn, one could argue it was close to night's dawn when the moon would crest over the hills. He adjusted his position, lying on his belly. The trees were whistling as the wind brushed over him, licking his ears and making him shake his head every once in a while as air travelled into his ear at an angle that made him feel like he was underwater.

"Will I ever get to talk to you?" It was a whispered question to the voice he has heard all of his life. The voice was curling on the air and tickling his cheeks.

'You do talk to me.'

Steve opened his mouth again, but he said not a syllable as a black figure came, purple eyes looking around for the simple miner.

He reached for his pack, shivers making gooseflesh appear on his skin and the wind freezing his bones. Shuffling back, he carefully adjusted his pack, trying to hold the gems and metalworks from making noise.

'Hold still, child.' Steve closed his eyes and tried to keep the smiles of wolves, disfigured and unnatural, on the face of the Enderman.

The Enderman was sending out the whispers that the Mockery was most likely ordered to give out. Explosions were going on in the distance and Steve cursed under his breath.

The whispers from the Enderman were getting closer. The smell of pork came to the forefront of Steve's mind and bile rose in his throat, burning the back of his tongue. Memories were coming unbidden, and the whispers were tickling his flesh.

His eyes filled with reality again, the burning bodies of pork-smell disappearing, and purple eyes captured his own.

'Don't listen, ch-'

"HHHeeellLLlllOOOO, sssSSSTTEeeeevvvEeeeeE."

Steve's mouth opened in a wide gape, his voice frying and fraying as his throat seemed crushed under the weight of whispers. A strange electrical noise filled his ears and he could feel parts in his ears pop, liquid running down slowly.

"dddDDDOOOooooessss ttThhhaaaaaattt hhhUUUURRRrrrrtttT?"

'He's laughing at me.' He was trying to grab at the whispers, trying to close his eyes. The voice in his head was screaming!

'Nonononnoononononononononnonononononon- I HAVE TO GET HOME!'

His eyes closed, and somehow…

'Turn, Steve.'

The miner looked down for a moment, and he turned back to the ridge that he was laying upon. The moon was coming up over the ridge and soon, Steve saw that no Enderman stood there.

"Where did it go?"

'Just keep running.'


	3. Genesis

Notes: This takes place in pretty much every version of Minecraft. Alex is from the soon to be released Bountiful Update (released Sept. 2). I don't play the games, so I abuse each canon to the best of my ability. Thank you for the reviews! I greatly appreciate any criticism.

* * *

Steve found himself outside... at night.

He hadn't found the materials to build a shelter for the night, and he was beginning to wonder if he would be able to live through the night. It was much colder than he expected it. Then again, he was by the Deep Ocean. Water always took so long to heat up, the big Ocean would surely be cold with all of that water to heat up, one square Flen at a time.

The voice was quiet, staying somewhere deep inside of his body. He sighed. He rubbed his lower abdomen in the first feeling of peace that he had felt since running from the Enderman. He was on the right path to his home.

Even if he didn't know what awaited him there. He felt as though he was following some pre-set instructions or a code.

Steve shivered at the cold breeze that came, but he continued to walk. There was some clean water in his bag, something he'd been clever enough to remember to bring with him.

As he looked up at the moon, he remembered an old rhyme that talked about a ruler on the moon. A vision of a serene face came to his sight and he felt his heart ache.

He'd been alone all of his life, only Herobrine - 'Damn him!' - had been a constant presence. Even if he was just trying to hurt Steve, trying to send him to his doom...

'We're always doing the same thing... Always running.'

The face on the moon withered away into the bright light that he knew it for. Loneliness washed over him, but he face of Herobrine stayed with him. It filled him with fear, and he strangest warmth began to fill his belly.

'No!'

He leaned against of the trees, seeing red apples on its branches. The heat came again, stronger than before. Steve looked up through the leaves at the moon. An apple fell down, as Steve felt his legs crumble beneath him. The bark against his fingers was rough, but he wished for something rougher. Teeth against his neck, eyes that seemed completely white and glowing staring into his; his heart was getting warmer and warmer, along with his body. He reached down for the apple with his free hand, lips getting sticky with juice as he bit into the replacement for the flesh that he wanted between his teeth. He imagined fangs in his mouth, marking this being, this supposed Hero.

He put his hand from the tree into his trousers and touched the sensitive flesh there. The sweetness of the apple, the fierceness of his teeth, and the roughness of his calloused hand; it drove him over the edge and he moaned softly as he felt wetness spread there, his mind coming down from a high.

"Fuck you..." he whispered to the cold air.

Steve vaguely wondered what would happen if he did fulfill those words. He felt tired... Time to sleep. He'd be safe under the oak tree.

* * *

The dream came as it always did. He was small and something was carrying him.

The NOTch came into his view.

"Stay safe. Run. Don't stop." These were the words given to him... His life.

Alex, his caretaker, held him close, cooing at him. Steve sat on the bed, sucking his thumb.

"My-"

"He will die at the Ocean Hero's hands." The NOTch left soon after, placing the Sword next to the sleepy toddler.

Alex had run with him at first. The first time, however, stood out in his mind.

The Creepers had been exploding in the village. Steve had been shown a picture of Herobrine, and he felt enamored by it.

"Hero" meant "savior," Alex had told him, and the Ocean was where he needed to go.

The Creepers had been exploding in the village, and Herobrine had sent them there. With Alex's bloody stump of an arm, Steve was carried. He could only look at the village burning behind them, the scent of pork - the flesh of the villagers roasting like a caught boar - alive in the air.

The fire was nothing compared to the flame of hate in Steve's heart.

* * *

The scent of brine tingled his nose, mixing with the scent of apples and the morning air when he awoke. It relaxed him.

He hated it.


End file.
